Let Me Be Your Peace of Mind
by PenguinSnuggles
Summary: Warren may be antisocial and as much of a bad boy as possible, but he has a secret: Mai Matsuyama, the daughter of his boss, and long time family friend. When she begins to attend his high school will his feelings change? Is she really just annoying?
1. You Know You Want to Smiiiiile

Let Me Be Your Peace of Mind

Ch. 1

"You Know You Want To Smiiiiile"

-

"I'm goin' to the same scho—ol as you."

A grunt came from the irritated bus boy at the end of his shift. Everyone had cleared out for the night, and Warren Peace was busy clearing the last five tables while Mai Matsuyama was busy annoying the crap out of him.

"I'm gonna ta—lk to you."

"Mai," came a warning.

"We're gonna eat lu—nch together."

"_Mai_." You had to commend the guy on his patience.

"Your gonna hold my bo—oks."

"Shut your trap, damnit!"

Silence. And then a burst of giggles from Mai, who was sitting at a table beside the one he was cleaning. Earlier, she had been bouncing around him, singing a silly, no-point song. Earlier in the week, she had gotten super hero powers, and was now going to be enrolled into a place called Sky High, which was where, coincidentally, Warren attended.

It was funny actually: her whole power was the ability to control water. Her mother had the same exact ability, and according to Mrs. Matsuyama, it would develop to the point where she could make ice, mist, but not steam. The reason it was funny was something that Mrs. Matsuyama, the owner of the restaurant, mentioned one sunny summer day after Mai had gotten her powers: "It's really strange—it's almost like her very object in life is to contradict you, Warren.

What's even stranger, is that both teens protested this. It surprised Mrs. Matsuyama when Mai said, immediately after, "Nuh-uh, mom. It's not that. I think it's because Warren's around that I even got my powers."

Embarrassed, Mai didn't say anything more. She didn't almost ever like to let anyone know that she actually did like Warren as a person. But she did, occasionally, express kindness towards him. Just to make sure that he knew that she loved him, no matter what. It was her thing—she adored annoying the boy she had known for years, but she was always scared that she would lose him.

Now, I know exactly what your thinking. This is impossible—Warren Peace is the bad boy. The antisocial jerk. The guy who only just opened up to Will Stronghold and his little friends last year.

How can you be so cruel? No—Warren Peace isn't so patient with everyone. It seems like he's only this way with his mother, his boss Mrs. Matsuyama, and Mai. He's know all three all his life, so it makes sense.

Mrs. Matsuyama and Ms. Peace were best friends in high school, and stayed that way all throughout their lives. Their kids were only children, and had spent all their time together almost. The both also gossiped like old women.

Mostly about their children.

Both were convinced that they would end up together, and when high school came around they started jokingly making wedding plans (although, the kids were pretty sure that it wasn't really a joke). Recently, they were going on about how, when Mrs. Lee gave Warren a job as a bus boy at her restaurant, that Mai had started coming to work with her mother more often.

But the kids thought they knew better. Of course she had started coming in more. They were best friends. Despite bickering half the time, they knew everything about each other. They spilled their guts frequently, and were always hanging out—whether it was at Warrens work place, his house, her house (which was down the street to the left), or at the park that was in between the two houses, they were almost always together. Warren had stopped thinking that she was just a little kid tagging along at the age of five. Even though she was a year younger, she always tried to look like she knew more.

Coincidentally, both of them were antisocial people. Warren had his bad boy look that seemed to develop only after the age of ten. And Mai? Well, she had turned into a total and complete geek. She was advanced in all her classes, and was the AP queen for her freshman year of regular high school. She was now going to be a sophomore at Sky High while Warren was in his Junior year.

The Royal Pain trouble had gone down the year before.

Actually, even though Mai was stuck with two friends, Warren and a girl she had know for three years from the beginning of middle school who was in all the same classes, she wasn't all too jealous of Warren's new friends. She had grown up, and was better than that. She wasn't a lonely person without him at times, because when he came back to her, he was all smiles, and seemed a little better than before.

So now, shall we get on with this story? And I'm a little boring, so maybe Mai should tell you for me.

My alarm clock rang, shrilly, from my bedside table.

With a start, I jumped out of bed, and raced towards the bathroom. I faintly realized that Warren was in their, dressed and ready to go, washing his hands, but I ignored all bad thoughts and the obscenities that came out of his mouth while I push him out of the bathroom with wet hands so I could get ready.

Sadly, I realized that the alarm was probably from me pressing sleep at least twice, and that I didn't have too much time. But then again, I was surprised that I could figure this out on the toilet at six-thirty in the morning.

My bedroom, being on the first floor next to the bathroom and kitchen, aloud me to hear anything going on in the kitchen. It was the only reason that this was my room, and not mom and dad's. I slept like a rock. An bomb could go off down the street and I would still be lying half way on the floor, my sheets long thrown off, dreaming of being a princess.

Oh shit, did that come out of my mouth? I mean. . . cat. Oh, crap that doesn't sound better.

Anyways, I got ready, which means I showered (without slipping, yeah!) and got my morning regulars done before heading back to my room with a towel around my semi-dry self.

I dried off, and pulled on something I had set out last night (this would probably be the only time I'll ever lay out my clothes the night before).

So, I pulled a pink, lacy camisole on, and then a large tee shirt I bought on the last trip to Japan my parents and I had taken to visit family.

After pulling dark, pin striped jeans that sagged at my feet, and my favorite Adidas flip flops (with pink socks!!!), I walked out with my giant black back-pack, and walked out of the house with a granola bar, arguing with my best friend.


	2. Where'd You Get That Idea? Return It

Let Me Be Your Peace of Mind

Ch. 2

"Where'd You Get That Idea? You Should Return It."

-

That morning, I smartly remembered that I hadn't brushed my hair after getting out of the shower, so before Warren could mumble something along the lines of "You're hair looks like a birds nest. You should tie it back before anything lives in it," I pulled it back into a messy bun.

While we walked, not quite side by side, but a pace or two away from each other, I amused myself by blowing a few strands of stray hair away from my face.

I guess the gasps of air had annoyed Warren, because he grunted as we got to the bus stop, and tucked them behind my ear. I giggled a little, before taking them out and playing with them.

I got an exasperated sigh out of Warren. "I just put them back for you, why are you still playing with them?"

I grinned, and gave an honest answer. "At first I just needed something to play with, but it's also fun getting you mad."

I got a sloppy grin out of Warren this time, and he just shook his head. My annoyances were rolling off him easily now-a-days, but I didn't dare make myself more of a nuisance than I already was. Getting Warren mad is one thing, with me, but being pissed is something I'd never like to experience again.

I tucked them behind my ear as the bus pulled up, and I waved cheerfully at the bus driver as we passed through seats. "I don't understand why you don't have loads of friends. You're cheerful enough."

"It's called the chance of insanity, War."

He chuckled a little at that, but the exchange was quiet, so the collective gasps only came when I plopped down right next to him after shrugging off my back pack.

I grinned a little. A lot of the bus members, I'm sure, including the bus driver, were expecting a very burnt little girl at that moment, but War just glared at them until they all turned around. Not surprisingly, he sat at the very front, two seats behind the bus door. There was a circle of empty seats around us.

"You said you were scary in school, War, but you didn't mention that they were this. . ."

"Scared?" he offered, whispering like I was.

"Yeah." I whispered back, nodding my head over enthusiastically. I got a roll of the eyes, and then he pulled out an mp3 player, and offered me the right headphone. Silently I took it, and after two more stops the bus driver said something about our high school.

Suddenly I was very aware of an out of place crazed grin on War's face. "Uh, War," I said, scared a little, "Why is it that you have. . . why are you . . . um?"

He just chuckled, a little evilly if I do say so myself. I scooted over a few inches, and got a "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It almost sounded like me at the restaurant the day before. Creepy.

"Why?" With a sudden lurch, we turned onto a street ramp that creeped up and then cut off with a big orange sign with the word "Danger" in big black letters.

"Isn't that bad?" I whispered to Warren, but instead of answering, he started to laugh a little.

Okay. Really bad. "War? What's going on? Why are you being so strange and why--" suddenly, black straps pulled me back onto my seat and with a large scream (mostly from me) and faint sound of Warren laughing in the background, we flew off the ramp, and into the air for a few seconds, before we grew wings and started flying away. No, seriously.

The whole time, I screamed. I hadn't noticed though, that I had been clutching War's arm until after we had gotten off the bus. I was surprised that Warren hadn't noticed it, too.

For a second, as we stepped out, I was scared. Not of the bus, but of the school. I saw tons of people around us using their powers. I wondered if I was going to be behind, because I hadn't had mine as long as others had. I was also scared, and just a little, of Warren. Suddenly I realized that this was uncharted territory. Was he going to ignore me along with the new friends he got, and keep being a big bad boy? Or would he be just fine with his friends, and ignore me anyways. Really, the last one was my bigger fear.

I wasn't jealous, just fearsome. So, against my minds wishes, my lips acted of their own accord, and asked, "Hey, um War?"

"Yeah." We had just unlocked arms, and were walking towards the front entrance.

"Will you. . . can you . . . uh. . . willyouleaveme?"

I got a confused look, before he breathed out and said, "Oh. That's what you said. Uh, no, of course not. It's your first day? Why would I leave you? Besides, our classes are pretty close and we even have lunch together. There's no need to."

I sighed in relief (involuntarily!).

I had already met Coach Boomer a week before school, and had made me a Hero so that I didn't need to go through the process with the freshmen.

My first three classes were great: Two classes were great: Hero Psychology and History, which happened to be my favorites. I loved it. And I just couldn't wait for lunch. It happened that Warren and I couldn't see each other between most classes, though. In lunch, I swore for the third time that day.

"Shit, I only packed you a lunch." I got a raised eyebrow from Warren.

I looked up with begging eyes at him (I didn't exactly like the fact that being Japanese also meant that I was a little shorter than normal. . . short people), and soon got him to cave in. Alright, I get you a lunch, but you owe me."

I scowled. "What? Two bucks? You owe me like, fifty. That's not fair."

Silence. Jerk.

But, he did come back with a ham sandwich, an apple and a bottle of chocolate milk, so I forgot about the money instantly. What? I'm an easily gratified person.

We walked over to a table in the back of the room with only three seats left, carrying each other's lunches.

There was already six people at the table. I knew them instantly from what Warren had told me: Layla, Magenta, Ethan, Zack, Will, and a new girl, Daisy.

Daisy was a quiet girl, who could grow her hair. Doomed as a sidekick, she had joined the group after dancing with Ethan at the post Royal Pain homecoming dancing.

And secretly, I loved her power. Not only could she grow it, but she could grow it in different textures and styles, colors, too. So much cooler than spewing water from the ends of your fingers.

As soon as we sat down, he picked up the lunch box I had made for him last night, and pushed the tray over to me. Even that simple move had made the whole table look over, and had got it quiet.

Or, they were looking for an introduction.

Before I could say anything, Layla (a red haired girl Warren referred to as "Hippie" that I had seen once before talking with him at the Paper Lantern) asked, rather bluntly, "Is she your girlfriend?"

Wait, what?

Question mark!!!

Warren, having already dug into the rice balls I had (badly) made, choked, a little before saying, "NO!" in a very stern voice.

I felt a little guilty. I wasn't sure why, but there was a pain a lot like it in my gut, so it must be guilt. Huh, weird.

I just shook my head stupidly.

At least three of them looked puzzled. "Alright," said Layla. But they still looked at us expectantly. I sighed. "Hi, my name's Mai Matsuyama, and I'm a new student at Sky High. I'm a sophomore."

Surprisingly, smiles burst on every face. If it was awkward before, it was awkwardly friendly now. They all introduced themselves, and we quickly got to eating while everyone else was reminiscing or telling funny stories about their summer.

I decided to keep the teasing Warren till tomorrow. As we were finishing up, Layla (who was sitting beside me, while I was sitting across from War) said, "Oh, wait! I remember you! The one time I went to the Paper Lantern, I remember seeing you out back. You gave me a thumbs up, and then Warren said that you were the owner's daughter."

I giggled. I did remember this—I was really happy that day. I had noticed that about a week before, War had come to the Paper Lantern extremely grumpy. I said hello, and we talked a little while he worked, but I didn't tease him then because he was angry enough as it is. I didn't want to ask him what was wrong, mostly because I was selfishly scared, but then, at the end of his shift, when everyone else had left, I did.

"Hey, War?" I tried to be as soft as possible.

I got a sigh. "Yeah, Mai?" Surprisingly, he seemed upset, not angry. "What is it?" With a spritz of cleaner on table six, he looked up at me.

"Well, I just noticed that you were, grumpy, so I was wondering what was wrong?"

He gave me a chuckle, which surprised me, and then slumped into the booth. I skipped over, and looked at him, expectantly.

"You remember the kid I told you about? Will Stronghold?" I nodded.

"All-American Boy?" He couldn't stop but laugh.

"Yeah, him. Well, I got put in detention today because I got in a fight with him." You see, now I was mad.

"War!" His eyes opened wide, "What?" he asked.

"The kid has no powers, and you jump him? I don't care what he said, he was helpless, and probably spineless!"

He sighed, and looked to the right while leaning back. "Yeah, but he got his powers in the middle of the fight, so he should be thanking me." My shoulder slumped. This wasn't just a fight because Stronghold picked one.

"War." He finally looked in my general direction. "What did American Boy say to get you so riled up?"

Finally, eye contact. "He talked about my dad. Well, I guess he didn't mean to, but he had spilled his lunch on me and I was already angry, and when he even mentioned my dad, as if he knew anything. Well, I kind of blew up."

I smiled, and got up. I pushed him more into the booth and sat next to him to give him a secret one armed hug. I sighed, exasperated, until he leaned back. "You know he didn't mean it." I said, with my arm around his waist.

And then, after that, he was slightly grumpy, but not as much as that day. Then, a week later, as he was bussing the tables late at night, and I was just about to walk out and trot around him as usual, when he went over and sat down at a nearby booth. I rushed across the kitchen to see them through the cooks window, and smiled brightly. I was extremely happy at that moment. I had no idea what was being said, and truthfully I didn't really care. But I was just glad that someone else besides me of our age was talking with him. When she glanced up in this direction, I gave her a thumbs up (I really couldn't think of anything else) and smiled, brighter. Warren saw me as well, and just shook his head. Apparently, he had told her who I was, too.

Now, at the lunch table as we got up and threw out our trash, I said. "Yeah. I remember you. Layla, was it?" Warren laughed, because he had spilled his guts about how annoying this Layla girl had gotten to me at least three times. At first I did feel a little bad for him, but then I remembered that at least he had been associating with people. That was always a plus.

Now, since I assumed I was stalling him, Warren took my upper arm and said, "Come on, we have the same class." My eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? But you're a year older than me? What class?"

He rolled his eyes. "I thought you were super thoughtful about your classes? Have you been slacking off? We have Elemental Controls together. There's only about twenty kids at this school who can control things like water and fire, but earth and air as well. We're all in one whole class every other day."

I secretly screamed "Yippie!" in my head. Then I couldn't contain it anymore and I actually screamed "Yippie!" out loud. I got looks from at least three other fellow students. But I just got dragged along by a sighing War.

As we walked in, we sat in the back, and I sat right next to each other. Sadly, as I expected, there was a ring of empty chairs around us when everyone else got there. A blonde girl with hazel eyes glanced over, and smiled. She leaned back in her seat, and tapped on War's desk. He glanced up, about to glare, but didn't. "Hey, Warren," said the girl. I was surprised, and a little happy. I looked over, expecting to see an annoyed War, but instead—he was smiling.

I didn't know what I really expected, but it wasn't. . . smiling.

That little pang came again. I was confused this time as well; why was I feeling guilty now? It didn't make sense.

I looked away, feeling awkward, and pulled out the notebook I had for this class. I had been prepared for it. I didn't think to ask Warren who that girl was.

In the last class, Mad Science, I was startled to see everyone there. Well, not everyone, we were missing Zack and Ethan, but Layla, Will, Magenta and Daisy were there. I smiled, and slid into the desk next to Daisy. "Hi! Remember me, my name's Mai."

She smiled, and good Lord, it was freaking beautiful. She had a gorgeous smile. "Yeah. I'm Daisy. Did Warren tell you. . .?"

I smiled. "I think your power's awesome. I wish I had that instead of mine." Her eyes went wide, and I think her smile got even prettier. "Really?" I shook my head enthusiastically.

At the end of the class, which I had started to love just as much as History, she waved and said, "See you tomorrow, Mai." And I smiled before almost walking straight into Warren.

"Sup, home skillet bis—"

"Just get onto the bus, Mai."

". . . . sket."


	3. Sick

A/N – Greetings, people of FanFictionia (you can laugh at me for that later)! I was away for a while (more like, out of ideas, juiced out, dry like recycled paper) so, I was just leaving it alone for a few days, as I went headfirst into work (more like, sat on couch, ate popsicles, and finally didn't eat anything else but omelets because everything else was too complicated). . . er, yeah. But, good news is that I'm back on track, and I'm wanting to take the story back a few notches. No major changes, but I'm going to do a little flash back, and maybe slow things down, explain a little more. As a total dweeb, I'm required to want the more complicated, unnecessary things in life.

Let Me Be Your Peace of Mind

Ch. 3

"Sick"

-

_I left the Paper Lantern early that day. The feel of the place, it was just so. . . off. I had placed on my warmest clothing when I was abnormally cold that morning, and then had to take most of it off, because I was suddenly sweating bullets—while still managing to be chilled to the bone. My first thought was: bad fever. _

_Colds were unpleasant things, but I could get through them without having to leave anything. Sadly, fevers were things that I loathed to the core. _

_They meant that I couldn't be working half the time. They meant that I missed something—and usually something of importance. So, you're probably wondering why I fled the place, when I was so stubborn about being left upright when I had my bouts. _

_It wasn't the fever, or the feelings from it. It wasn't my mother's persistence that I stay home (which was altogether strange. I would've thought that she had noticed, but instead she didn't say anything. I liked the change of luck, and tried hard to keep it that way, too). It was Warren._

_He was angry. Well, he must have been angry, because he was abnormally hot. And I don't just mean uncomfortable warm, I mean sweltering. Scorching._

_So, of course. He was angry. I just couldn't figure out why, or, more importantly, at who. _

_But. . . it did seem like he was a lot more hotter around me._

_However, I just couldn't see him this mad at me. What could I have possibly __done to make him _scorch_? If anything, I would have at least known why I was being treated so badly. It was not Warren Peaces thing to not tell me things—even when he was mad at me. That was an unbroken rule, for both of us._

_Until now, I guess._

_But it had gotten so bad that I just stayed away. And because when I was away, all I had been was uncomfortable, I just went home._

_I went home and cleaned the whole house until it was _spotless_, but I went home. _

_It was after I had used Pine-Sol on the floors of the kitchen, that it hit. And my first guess was right in almost every single way. The feeling I had screamed horrible fever. Bad things were in my blood, and my white blood cells wanted them _out.

_My body shook uncontrollably, and the only reason I knew this was before I passed out on the floor, curled up in a giant ball, trying to keep all heat possible in when I was uncovered, I looked into the shiny stove's reflection._

_Sweat, I figured, rolled out of every pore. I was crying hysterically, for no reason, and all my clothes felt uncomfortable from being wet and cold. The kitchen floor didn't help a bit._

_I had to spit so much, that I just let myself drool. _

Dysentery.

_The word popped up in my head very suddenly, but I knew it from my advanced classes in science. It was a very brief four minute description, but it matched me in ways I didn't like describing. I could feel the puddle of my fluids around me, but I only knew that it made me colder._

_ Oh God, I thought. I was going to die, like this, on the kitchen floor, with fluids coming out in every area possible. _

_I heard a loud, masculine voice shriek my name before I left Earth._

That whole experience had been absolutely terrifying, and the week or so after it was bad, yes, but nothing compared to that first freak-out.

I was avoiding everything at the moment. I was sitting in my room, heater on, snuggled up in my bed that was lined with dozens of large towels.

My first assumption had been wrong, this was worse than being sick.

But after the first week, it had been so easy, I tended to forget about my episode. Well, I _in_tended to forget about it. No one involved in it (my mother and Warren Peace) really spoke about that specifically, just in general.

My mother was proud. As a woman who had a special connection with the oceans, she was very happy that her daughter controlled water. She was my helper in all things watery.

No, as a couple weeks had progressed, and I had already entered Sky High, I wasn't a perfect hero. I had spouts of dark saturation from my every pore every now and then, which plainly sucked.

But, since Sky High was a super school, I never _really _felt embarrassed about them.

What did I feel embarrassed about then? Come on, admit it. You're just itching for gossip.

Well, truthfully?

Warren.

A/N – Hey, loves. It was a little bit of a filler, but I do hope that it kept you waiting for more. Here, though, I just wanted to thank everyone. Not only this lovely fanfictionian, comedychik84 for leaving me a delicious (is that too creepy a word?) comment, but also all the people who put me on their favorites lists and their alert lists. I look forward to keeping you happy! :D Oh, and P.S. The title is a tribute to my favorite Shel Silverstien poem. Don't laugh, you know you love him.


	4. Sing Back Louder

A/N: It's absolutely official: the people of Fanfictionia are the greatest. I really thank you all for paying attention to the story. I hope you still love it, and that Ch. 4 is a great to you as it was for me (I'm still saying creepy stuff like that. . . ). Enjoy!

Let Me Be Your Peace of Mind

Ch. 4

"Sing Back Louder"

-

I was always, and forever will be, a complete geek. I say geek, because they're the people who actually know how to do things. Nerds are wannabes. Yeah, you'd think there'd be a support group for this kind of thing. OCD's Anonymous?

I was reminded of this as I walked into my room, and let my eyes slowly go over the whole entire place. My bed had been made that morning, and slowly I approached it to take the lone teddy bear off the bed, and I slumped onto the edge. I had gotten my room carpeted as soon as I had decided it was mine at the age of eight. I had already been in half the rooms of the new house when we moved across town, closer to the Peaces.

I like this one the best. It faced the front yard, like none of the others did.

I had a bedside table, a small dresser next to my long closet, a large comfy chair, and a desk. Not only was everything piled with shit (well organized shit, but shit none-the-less), but it was so colorful. No, it was _loud_.

I wasn't my room. Sure, perhaps I was insistent and annoying (mostly with Warren), but I was loud. I was never out there. My colors, the bright blues, pinks, greens, oranges and yellows of my room never showed.

For the past few years, I always thought of it as my own little secret. I was giddy, always thinking about how no one really ever knew me. My secret.

It was today, though, that I began to resent it. It was no longer a fun secret to keep. It was burdensome, and I didn't feel so happy when I got home today because of it.

Layla, Warren's friend from that one night, had asked me for my phone number. I had been so nonchalant giving it to her, almost like I didn't really want her to call me. My heart was exactly the opposite. I was giddy as a (drunk) bird. I immediately smacked my self as I walked away in from the lunch room.

And that's why, now as I sat in my room moping and examining the mocking cleanliness, I was scared shitless at the sound of my cell phone ringing.

I was even more surprised that it still worked. I hadn't charged it for a week and a half, because I never used it. I thought it would have shut off by now.

But I still dug into my backpack urgently, trying to find it. I didn't bother checking who it was, as I flung it open and put it to my ear. It sounded like that someone was already leaving a message. "Hello?" I gasped.

"Oh, hey Mai!" . . . Layla?

I was a little shocked. She'd just asked me for the number today, and she had already called me? Oh, wait, that was for guys. . . or, was it?

I didn't have time for my brains small meltdown, as Layla said, "Hey, it's still early. Do you want to come over and have diner with me at the Strongholds?"

Confusion sprouted across my face like a large thunderstorm, and stared back at me through the mirror on my dresser across the room. "A-at, Stronghold's house?" Great stutter, Mai. You could do pranks with CD players.

"Yeah. Will invited me over, and then asked if I could invite you. I didn't get told until like, five minutes ago."

I was going to refuse. Who was I kidding. I was just the same bumbling idiot I was before I realized that I was a bumbling idiot.

"Yeah, sure."

Idiot.

"Awesome, I'll come pick you up. Did you know that you live on the same street and Will and me? I wonder why we go on a separate bus?"

Because the street's super long and I live near a whole lot more supers, like Warren, so we need our own bus.

"I dunno."

Was a struck dumb? Did the phone opening flick off a switch that determined my intelligence? "Alright." I heard her say.

"Be there in a sec." Beep.

I sat on my bed, and put my phone on it. For a second, I examined the way it looked. Diner with people?

I sighed.

"Shit," and fell against my bed.

I finally came downstairs with a billowy white shirt and long jeans that cascaded over my suede black ballet flats My hair wasn't worth fighting, so I pulled it back into a bun, again. "Oo," I heard from behind me. Layla was already here.

"I like the half sleeves. It's really cute."

My mother and father were sitting down in the kitchen with her. "That's one you made, right hun?" Great mom. You deserve an award. Did you give her my first place second grade field day trophy for being the most enthusiastic, too?

"Yeah." Sigh.

A look of astonishment and awe crossed Layla's face, and I suddenly forgave my mother. I would take out the scrapbook for her.

I smiled, and walked up to Layla. "C'mon," I said, "Let's go." I heard a "Have fun," from my mother. For a second, I was really glad I decided not to tell my parents that we were going to a boys house for diner. Simple and innocent as it might be, my parents had enough firsts of mine for the night.

I had never gone over the house of the one friend I had in my old school. In fact, I never saw her outside of school.

I was happy. And it rocked.

Surprisingly, we got to Stronghold's house quickly, and I laughed a little as I glanced at the house beside it. It _had_ to be Laylas. It was crawling with animals, and the greenery that surrounded that place looked like it was from a deep part of the Amazon rain forest, the northern parts of France, and an Egyptian desert, all at the same time.

I got a nudge from Layla for my laugh. I nudged her back. "I love your house, Layla. Where'd you get the foliage? Eastern Europe? Or maybe somewhere in the middle of Siberia? Seriously." I got a hearty laugh, but no comment as we walked up the steps.

I smiled brighter as some bright yellow seemed to come out of my heart.

The Strongholds were the kindest people I've ever met. Will dad was embarrassingly kind and funny, and his mom was funniest person ever. I think only she and Layla could make Will's ear's go that shade of magenta.

"So, Mai," said Mrs. Stronghold as she picked up a stray dish. Her and I were washing the dishes, because I insisted. "I hear you and Warren are pretty close?" I blinked. Had Will talked about us previously? Well, probably.

"Uh, yeah. Our families have been friends a long time." A smile graced her features.

"Oh." I creased my eyebrows. Oh? I shook my head and kept washing dishes in the large sink filled with water.

Both Layla and I managed to get out before Mr. Stronghold took out his scrapbooks (I had been previously warned by Layla), using the excuse that it was getting late. Really, though, it had gotten late before we really noticed.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Layla asked as we had wondered over to her yard. "No," I said. "I can make it by myself."

I turned around, yelling bye to Layla who had walked up to her steps, and ran into something. I blinked, "Sorry, I wasn't watch—"

It was Warren. That wasn't what had stopped me, it was him, who said, "I'll take her home," nice and loud, for Layla. I heard an "Uh, alright." And knew that she was just itching to ask what he was doing here. Which I did, angrily.

And I wasn't sure why I was angry. Maybe it was just that I had wanted to think on the way back.

"What were you doing over Stronghold's house? I thought you were just with Layla." Oooh, no, I thought. Nuh-uh, you have to answer me first.

"What were you doing over here? Your house is down there on another street." I got shot an unamused look, and quickly felt sheepish. "They invited us to dinner," I said. No need to get complicated with it.

I looked up, surprised to see the same look on his face. "I was going to get you. Mom and I are over your house." I blinked a few times, and said quietly, without even a hint of accusation, "What were you going to do if we were still inside?"

I heard nothing from him. Oh, well. . . okay. The air was colder than it was when we walked to his house, I noticed, and my simple half sleeve shirt wasn't going to cut it. I didn't even have to shiver. Warren was already around me with on arm, warmer than usual. "Thanks," I said, my voice brighter and happier. I got a strange look. I got the urge to stick my tongue out like a five year old.

"Whatever."

Could he tell that I was bright yellow, too?


	5. Dirt From a Boy's Mind

A/N: I'd written this a while back, when my story had a regular flow of chapters coming in. I'm convinced it was a filler, _almost_, because it does serve some sort of purpose. Ish. Enjoy! P.S., The next chapter will be out tonight as well (or tomorrow, but probably tonight), because this was written a while ago, and I just wrote 6. :)

Let Me Be Your Peace Of Mind

Ch. 5

"Only Dirt Comes From a Boy's Eyes"

-

There was a point where I didn't let Warren Peace around me. When we were kids, I ran so far away, into a corner, and around my mothers legs, just to get away from him.

I do believe he was the reason I learned to run first, not crawl.

But as I walked, two steps behind him as always, to the Paper Lantern, I had no intention to run away.

I had turned my attention to my shirt, scratching, tampering, and poking it every so often, loudly too. I had found a nice gray tee shirt with delectable thin and very cool fabric at my favorite hangout (other than where the "Annoying Warren Club" meets): the Goodwill Store, directly across from the Salvation Army, right next to an Ocean State Job lot. Hello, cheap crap at wonderful, glorious prices.

The shirt was found in the back of the blue section, next to the "Back To School" piece of crap they called a display. I had spent two days sketching out, printing out, cutting, and sewing this baby together to be the masterpiece it was. On the front, in cut out fringed fabric and white ink, it said, "Hopeless Cause" and on the back, the words—only in ink—, said, "Jesus Already Got To Me."

With a sigh, Warren glanced off to the left and slowed down, tearing my hand from the words and yanking it forward at a fast pace, towards the looming restaurant.

I shivered; fall had come fast. Only three weeks into school, and the air was already getting so incredibly cold that I regreted not having my favorite extra large sweater with me.

I felt an arm envelope me, and we slowed down so that my neck didn't get ringed.

He spoke first, as we slowed even more, not even bothering to go in the right direction. "How's school going for you?" he asked, cool and collected, staring at the fast setting sun. It was only five o'clock; already?

I smiled. "It's incredibly boring, I hate it, and I wanna go back home and be taught by my mommy." I stared, just waiting. He cracked my favorite sloppy smile, and said, "Punk." My eyes twisted, "Me? Yeah, Mr. I'll-only-wear-black-and-dye-my-hair-with-red-streakes-cause-it-looks-cool. I'm the punk."

He stared down. "You're the one with the funny name, _Matsuyama_, don't give me one." I scoffed, "It's not funny. Your just insanely jealous of the epic awesome-sauce that is Mai Matsuyama, _baka_."

I could feel him twitch. "Why wont you tell me what that means?" I gave him the same creepy look he was giving me, "Why wont you look it up on the internet?"

Suddenly, we stopped, and I crashed gently into him before stumbling straight. I noticed that we had circled, and were now heading somewhere near the restaurant, again.

He blushed slightly. And I burst out laughing, escaping from him arms. I nearly choked. "You-ahahahahaa-you didn't even b-ahahahaha-b-bother to look it-ahahahahahahaha-up on the interne-ne-ahahaha net."

It was amazing how he could speak great Japanese, and not still know the word for idiot. Oh, I know why. It's because I'm the geek who watches anime all the time and he doesn't... Hey! Shush! It helps me from forgetting the language.

I got a glare that slowly turned into a creeped out look. I was still holding my stomach (that hurt by now) and laughed heartily in the middle of the street.

I was still giggling as he yanked on my hand and pulled me into the restaurant, mumbling something about me being a "strange girl just like the hippie."

The only reason he even brought her up, I believe, is because he would be right. I'd been hanging out with her all week. I almost spent as much time with her as I spent with War.

And suddenly, as I was day dreaming about my new best friend and going to the new carnival outside of town with her and the rest of Warren's friends, I became incredibly aware of the hand placed in mine, that had gone from a tight grip and angry pull, to a gentle fit and a light tug.

I felt guilty as I pulled it out of his hand. Why guilty? What guilt-trip was he steadily driving me on?

My own hand fell into a fist, and I watched concerned as his flexed, and then relaxed.

My mother had decided to come out, and for a long second she stared at Warren's face, and giggled before giving me a look I didn't quite get, and stalking out of the room.

I ran up, and glanced at his face: it was just puzzled. Geez, what's so special about Warren's blank faces now-a-days?

I skipped forward, and tugged at my jeans slightly. They were too long, but they looked cool rolled up once at the bottom, touching my bright blue flip flops.

I was glad; these jeans were horrifyingly heavy in the summer, making my legs feel like lead. But they were perfect for the cooler months. The windows of the restaurant were flow wide open, but the place was so packed that the chill of the September night kept a balance with the rush of creepy, sweaty bodies.

Ew.

I cringed, but headed towards the closet at the back of the kitchen, and grabbed Warren's apron and a dish bucket.

He sighed, but smiled as I brought his uniform and tools of the trade over. I had leapt back at the last second, and grabbed a second set of the two. It amazed me how crowded the place was.

He threw his hair back, and I re-tied mine back into the same old messy bun that now settled at the top of my head, keeping any of my black glossy hair away from a back that might start to sweat.

I felt comfortable as I tied my apron halfway folded, like Warren did, and grabbed my square bucket, first settling it between my left hand and my tipped side and then grabbing a spray and two fresh rags before throwing them into a small walled off compartment in the bucket.

Warren could work the crowd without being noticed, that was his big thing. I loved watching him work, but didn't get the chance as I walked out and gave a cliché hi-five to Greg, a man lucky enough to get off his shift as afternoon bus boy.

I heard Warren sigh from behind me, and say, "Left side." I nodded—quickly, not liking the bouncing tug from my bun—and ran off to the right, heading straight for a table with two lonely left plates, stacked together with ten dollars on the corner. I handed them to the oncoming waitress—was her name Tracy?—and heaved the dishes into my bucket. I set it down on the seat, and cleaned the table with ease, smiling at a small two year old girl to my right.

With a sigh, I pack up swiftly and ran off in an unknown direction to another abandoned table.

Warren seemed to stare as much as possible.

He had justified it in his mind as he cleaned up his first table: she always seemed to stare when he worked, and even though he knew it was just to annoy him, he often thought too much about it. This was one of those times. His turning and gazing as he wondered off in no real direction was simply payback.

He had the ability to keep everyone happy, and still stay stealthy and unnoticeable, the very way he liked it, but Mai was something totally different. Even though the temperature in the room seemed too much when it was packed like this, he liked the heavy nights simply because she would help out.

Her hair was hilarious, and he smiled warmly when she purposely made some wacky move while picking up plates to make the bun wave across her head. He felt bad that she wouldn't be able to re-do it.

But then again, it was damn funny.

He started to chuckle louder than he thought as she did it again, with a stupid look on her face.

It had been for the little blond girl near the corner, so she was surprised to her any more laughter, but blushed as she turned as saw Warren still laughing.

He stopped, and turned back, but let a few more chuckles escape. He stole glances all throughout the couple of hours that they bussed.

He absolutely loved the way that she blushed, half her face turning a bruising dark red.

Pulling back from a fast dissapearing crowd as a girl he vaguely recognized as new staff ran out to get the last few plates and checks from tables she waitressed. He sighed, and threw down his bucket and sat across from Mai as she sat leisurely on a stool, with her feet up on a heater.

His face twisted, and he looked disgusted at a plate in her hands. On it was a mishaped thing made of salt and peppered sticky rice, chicken, and some gross black flecks. "What is that?" he asked, staring.

She giggled. "Rice and chicken with _wasabi furikake_. It's fan-freakin'-tabulous."

His stomach turned. "It sounds creepy." Her eyes squinted, and he suddenly wanted to smile, big. She gave him a fake angry look, and said, "Shush, _otoko no ko._" Her mother suddenly walked by, and looked back at her daughter. "That's not nice, Mai-chan."

She turned back, and giggled. Suddenly, she was faced with a small smirk, and a burning anger. "Little boy, huh?" he said, placing his hands on either side of her, and trapping her in a cage of arms.

With a completely unexpected flash of movement (she hoped), she shrieked and try to run off. A hard, locked arm stopped her dead, and she fell back on the other one, with a scared look.

Suddenly, he noticed that not only was she able to put the plat back on the counter, but she had _stuffed_ the _onigiri_ in her mouth, and was now looking at him with a scared mouth filled with rice and little specs of her _wasabi furikake_ around her open lips.

And damn, she looked scared.

He let his arms dropped, and burst out laughing, clutching his side and leaning on the wall. Her mom walked back over to where she previously was, shaking her head.

Warren suddenly got a big old wack on his arm from a fuming Mai, who had swallowed her rice.

"Butthead."


	6. Clothes, Friends, and Warren, Oh My!

A/N: Like I said, chapter six was written just after I'd found the old chapter five. I replaced a few bits while reading it; they were just minor mistakes like grammar, or just sentences that didn't make sense, like "Mouses, they were while he strode into the room with his cheerleading trophy in one hand and the silk batons in the other." . . . Well, yeah. Enjoy! :)

Let Me Be Your Peace of Mind

Ch. 6

"Clothes, Friends, and Warren, Oh My!"

-

I was scared shitless. I was out of mind. Why on _Earth_ was I doing this?

Well, no ideas? Anyone? Please?

Nope. Empty. No reason for this _madness_ at _all_. So, logically we should turn right 'round, burn some rubber just going _back _to Hippie's house. Now.

Oh, wait, there _was_ a small, unimportant, insignificant reason for this _insanity_.

I was, apparently, reaching out. Well, that was what Layla had said the other day, anyways.

_Layla and I were sprawled out in my room, myself folded in my chair haphazardly while she was jumping up and down on my bed, reaching out into my dresser drawers and closet, checking out all my clothes. "Whoa," she said, flipping through the color coordinated pieces of clothing (and, if I wanted to embarrass myself further—why not?—I would explain how they're color coordinated _within_ their _separate sections_). _

_ Suddenly, her head poked out with a stern look on her face, "There aren't any animal skins or hides in here, are there?"_

_ I felt things bubbling._

_ Oh, crap._

_ "And if there was?" I said, spitefully. There wasn't, but I had a whole argument set up behind my mouth that was just _itching_ to pop out._

_ And then she was hurt, and I was a bitch, and I most _definitely_ felt like _crap.

_ "Oh, sorry, sorry, there aren't, I was just being an ass," I said bluntly; no need to beat around the un-needed bush here._

_ But then, Miss Damsel-in-distress was chuckling. "I'm the sorry one," she said, with a sheepish look on her face._

_ Okay. I was confused. The 'Wha?' that should've popped out of my mouth was etched on my crumpled forehead. _

_ "Warren already explained your theory that, despite animals having souls, they were better than us, and sought to help us by providing with food, shelter, and everything necessary and biodegradable for our journeys, and that even though your have no qualms about slewing innocent animals," here, her face was stern again, disagreeing, "...you still believe that respect should be given to them, and that all of __their. . . _parts_," shiver from Layla, "should all be put to a purpose. And, the whole only Kosher meat thing that you started with your parents."_

_ Although completely glad that hadn't turned into an awkward moment, and that Layla knew (if not understood) my thoughts about animal slaughter, I was still stuck on that first word._

_ Warren._

_ Crap._

_ "But," she said, once again head first diving into my closet, "Your clothes are fan_tastic_," and she pulled out one of my favorite cream knitted sweaters. _

_ I smiled, "Well, I'm just glad I have a good sense of what's cute, especially when I have to dive for this stuff at their great prices all the time."_

_ Whoops. No, I did _not _just let that slip. Game over. The only option now is to get her out of the house. _

_ I pulled a hand through my hair, that was, for once, loose, and let it pull away from where it was spayed across the front of my plain white v-neck. I stared at my jeans and my colorful socks for a moment, trying to play it cool._

_ Psh. Like _that _was even _near_ the realm of things-Mai-does-well. _

_ "What'dya mean?"_

_ Exactly, it's not._

_ How to answer Layla? Oh, I know: I just meant that those clearance bins at Forever 21 are really awesome. "I love thrift stores."_

_ Wait, what? This was not the answer we agreed on. But I was smiling like an idiot at Layla's amazed face. I just happened to also love it when she looked at me like that. _

With the girl that I'd been friends with since middle school, I'd never disscussed anything deeper than the basics of what we were doing that weekend. I'd never gotten close to telling her that I had thirty extra bucks from moing lawns that week and was going to dive into the little Goodwill, Salvation Army and Ocean State Job Lot plaza for some more jeans, fabric spools and maybe some more thread.

The thirty bucks (now forty, as I'd just received an unexpected ten dollars from my mother after I'd scrubbed down my bathroom—I had a feeling that it was an on purposed payment that had nothing to do with the bathroom, gorgeous as it was, and more to do with the fact that I couldn't keep my mouth shut around Layla) was in my pocket.

It now felt wa—ay too heavy for a small bundle of inked cotton.

I sat in the back seat of Layla's mother's car (a completely electric car with excellent usage of space that me, as a old-car-slash-truck lover didn't quite apprieciate, and a source of power that came completely from an expensive solar panel in the back of their house), squished between Layla and Sophia while Magenta lounged in the passenger seat.

I could see the looming plaza appear on the horizon (alright, perhaps the moment wasn't that horribly dramatic, but it was close, I say!), and cringed.

My death was near. Ish.

Suddenly, Mrs Williams was saying, "Alright, girls, we're here," and Layla was the first out of the car, having unbuckled herself, and me (how on _Earth_ did that girl manage that?) before leaning back in to grab my arms and yank me out.

Ugh.

I cursed myself for letting myself be taken hostage.

It was then that, surprisingly, I realized how alike Layla and I were. Not at the same time, obviously, but with Warren, I now understood (with a cringe) that I was equally annoying.

But, then again, it _was_ quite fun, wasn't it?

Hm. . . I was thinking (never a great sign), and starting to. . .loosen up.

Why was I so tense and uptight anyways? What was the point of being so shaky?

I looked around as Layla, Sophia, Magenta, and I walked up to the Salvation Army first, with Mrs Williams trailing behind, and my stomach did a brilliant flip flop. It felt _good_.

In fact, it resembled the way I felt around Warren, and yet not quite. Maybe it was just the boy/girl factor.

But I liked it. And I smiled, again, as we walked towards the thrift store.

There was some definite bright ass pink coming out of my ears.

There was a headphone absently in my left ear, playing "Hey Jude" as I narrowed a critical eye at the racks and racks of clothing. I loved the thought of the Salvation Armies. The Goodwill was a place I'd rarely go to, only sometimes, because the Salvation Army was my true love. If that didn't sound too creepy.

Layla was busy being amazed at the prices next to me, and checking out a rather cute green dress, while Sophia was following Magenta around (a girl who was, surprisingly, a natural at grabbing the thrift store's better deals).

Already, I had about six shirts, because you can always find shirts. I had decided that since I already had enough projects at home that I wasn't going to buy any more fabric.

And now, with an extra twenty dollars on my mind, I was scouring the large section, in the back, of jeans. "Aha!" I shouted, as my eyes landed right on my size in a tag, and I pulled out a pair of extremely light washed skinny jeans.

"What?" I heard Layla call. Then, she was right next to me, and looking at the jeans I had in my hands. Her eyes bulged, "How. Did. You. Do. That?" she asked, tugging on the knee of the jeans.

I just giggled before tossing them in our mini-cart. Thinking a little more, I pulled it out and checked the size by pressing it to my waist and checking the height to make sure I wasn't going out with pants for a twelve-year-old.

Satisfied, I dropped it back in, and proceeded to toss three other pairs in.

Our bags were in the back of Layla's car soon enough, and we were headed back home, just like I'd wanted before. But now, I was content. That was a feeling I always associated with shopping, but it was much better surrounded by my new friends.

Suddenly, from my left, I heard Sophia say, "Is it cold, or what?" I nodded in agreement, before turning my head towards her.

I had turned just in time to catch something, too: her, growing out her hair faster than I'd ever seen anything grow (even those little beads that doubled in size in a pitcher of water) and turning it a more thick texture while keeping it dark.

Looking back once to my long, but almost unchangeable asian hair, I leant my head into her shoulder before saying, "I think your power is _awesome_, and I would love to exchange, _now._"


End file.
